Nowhere
by SonataAllegro
Summary: "'No, Alfred, I'm not okay. If you hadn't noticed, a madman and his group of peasants have taken our son.' And the King backed up, slowly, as to avoid the oncoming shocks of his Queen's anger. Literally." The Joker has taken Peter back with him to a land that nobody can find. Marriage, Royalty, and a ragtag group of not-villains just might ruin everything. USUK CLOCKWORK SEQUEL.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

Mathias liked to think he was a good man. He was definitely not in a good situation, but he was a good man. The problem was, he was a drifter. He didn't know his mother, or his father. He had no real siblings to point him in the right direction. There might have been a kingdom in his past, a life there for him. There could have been so much.

But this was the Land of the Cards. And like any drifter, with no one to keep you where you are, you will drift away. And drift, and drift, and drift.

You will drift until you're Nowhere. There are no maps marking it, no landmarks or guides.

But possibly worst of all, in Nowhere, there are no rules.

In Nowhere, there's dark magic.

In Nowhere, you were worse than alone.

Mathias, like all drifters do, ended up in Nowhere. He couldn't remember when, why or how, but he did.

And he lived there with the others, the lost brothers of Nowhere.

Berwald, Tino, Emil and Lukas, Matthew…

And Gilbert.

The others, they were good people. Good people in bad situations.

Berwald and Tino were forbidden to marry. They ran away together, and thus, began to drift.

Lukas had been noble, his father a Clubs Lord, but his father was killed by the Mad King, and Lukas ran, far away, and he drifted too.

No one knew Emil's story. Maybe, like Matthias, he didn't really have one to begin with.

Matthew had a story. Apparently it was pretty rough. But no one knew what that was, either.

Except for Gilbert.

_Everyone _in their band of lost brothers knew his story.

Gilbert's full name was Gilbert Beilshmidt. He's the only one of them who really knows their family name, the only one who really remembers what life was like before Nowhere happened.

Gilbert was the first-born son in this generation of the Beilshmidt family of Hearts. One of the three Royal families of Hearts, he would have been chosen to be King on his twentieth birthday.

But when he was born, that option was immediately ruled out. Gilbert welcomed the world with skin pale as snow, and hair like ice. His eyes were red, unnatural and cold.

Even in the world where magic and medicine work together, Gilbert was cast away, his brother to be King in his place. He was forced to drift, and drift, and drift, until he found Nowhere.

He was in good humor about it—he even said if he couldn't be King, he would just have to settle for a Joker.

But in his cold, red eyes, Mathias saw a thirst for _revenge_.

…

Once a week, Gilbert went… Somewhere. Back to the real world. Sometimes, they went with him. This time, he didn't ask.

And, Mathias followed him. Once he was past the dense, wet forest that they called home, it was clear to Mathias, as it always was when they went on these excursions, that Nowhere was a place of strange, dark magic. Because, the swamp in which their small, strange lodgings were in was not there when he looked back. Instead, he was standing in the middle of a bustling harbor.

The Spades Harbor.

He didn't know much about this Kingdom, didn't know if he had traveled here or was even born here, but he knew that Gilbert had no place being there. Him as well.

The people weren't even reacting to Gilbert's strange appearance. He must have been using the dark magic that obviously resulted in their home. Confused, Mathias followed behind the man, the Joker, and listened.

Which didn't result in anything, because Gilbert was listening as well.

For what, he didn't know. But he snuck up between noblemen in their family colors, and peasants in their rough garb, and listened to the chatter of the harbor.

He perked up at the conversation of two noble women, grinning like the madman Mathias thought he was. And then he turned to look at Mathias himself.

"Good news boy, good news."

"Gilbert! Hello." He had learned to control his rash tongue around the man.

"Fancy seeing you here, boy. Well, not really, because you followed me. Funny, but I always know these things. Always, boy."

"Right."

"And now we must be back, back boy, back to share the news."

Mathias didn't even get out his planned "What news?" before the Joker whipped him back to Nowhere.

…

They were all gathered around the beaten up table. The Brothers of Nowhere, Mathias noted, were all just a rag-tag group of nobodies. But they all had a role to fill.

Gilbert was their leader. He was crazy, maybe always was, or maybe the dark magic rotted his mind, but he took them in and gave them a place, even if it was Nowhere.

Tino was their healer. He was proficient enough in medicine and healing spells to be of aid.

Berwald was their warrior. That one spoke for itself.

Sometimes, Mathias was a fighter. But mostly, he was the talker. He could lighten the mood, or even darken it. Mostly, he got them out of situations, smooth talking shop owners while stealing food from their carts, and other such things.

Lukas was the sorcerer. He knew a lot of magic, but he wouldn't use Gilbert's dark magic. His magic was often the practical sort, anyway.

Emil was the brain of most operations. He seemed to know everything, and nobody ever questioned his strange wisdom.

And Matthew, well… Matthew had the special talent of going unnoticed. He seemed to lurk in the shadows in just the right way, he was quiet and passive, and he could easily sneak anywhere.

And this gang, while maybe not living the most righteous of lives, they weren't evil.

So, when Gilbert announced his "genius" plan, they all listened with open minds.

But no one ever expected what he proposed.

"It has been a busy seven years, don't you think. War, and marriage. There was that, yes there was. But even better, there have been some interesting developments there. I was so delighted to hear the news of the pittering patter of little baby feet in the Spades' Palace. A busy _busy _seven years, don't you agree?"

There was some chuckling. Matthew seemed agitated.

Gilbert continued. "I bet there was no talk of my pattering feet, yes? None at all. Remember how I was cast away from my very own, very royal family?"

Mathias quietly rolled his eyes. They'd all heard the story. Every day.

"They set me aside, without a glance. I was gone, dead to the world. Dead. Am I dead?"

He was losing it, even more than usual.

"So what if, what if another royal little precious baby was cast away? What if? Maybe it would serve as a lesson to them, maybe it wouldn't. I don't care. But what I do know is this: If I never got to have my life, why should this child?"

There were arguments presented immediately. Shouts filled the void they called home. The voices rose louder and louder until they heard Matthew's quiet voice, almost a whisper, began to speak.

"We could do it, though, we should take him. If we do, we'll have bargaining material with a palace. We could have food and gold for years and years."

It _did_ make sense.

Then, with the idea that the boy would be used as no more than a bargain, they all agreed to plan an invasion.

But later, as everyone set to bed, Mathias, curious as ever, heard Matthew whispering to Gilbert.

"Of course, we could just kill the boy. That would be fun."

…

He lay in bed that night, awake. There was no erasing the thought of quiet, brooding Matthew planning the death of a child. That he was unwillingly now involved in.

The more Mathias thought about it, he realized that he _had _been to Spades before. On one of his first days in Nowhere, Gilbert had sent him out to see what he could do for the group.

He was nine years old, and Gilbert had pushed him out into a tall, imposing building, and told him to find out a secret.

And he looked everywhere, under pillows and rocks and in the woods, and then, behind tapestries and paintings.

It was then that he found the hidden spiral staircase, and it was there that he found Matthew. The boy, they were close in age, but he was so small as a child, never usually left Gilbert's side, so it was strange to see him here.

Except this Matthew didn't act like the Matthew he knew at all. He was loud, and clumsy, and he might have been a little dumb, because it took him a while to notice Mathias there at all.

And when he looked up, into Matthew-but-not-Matthew's eyes, he realized that he was very confused.

"What are you doing, Matthew?"

"Who're you? And my name is _not _Matthew."

Not Matthew smiled at Mathias, with all the smug-ness an eight year old could manage.

"It's Alfred."

When he finally got back to Nowhere, he told his secret to Gilbert:

Matthew had a brother.

END of PROLOGUE

A/n:

Hi! My name's Amanda, and welcome to the second installment of the Clockwork Cardverse AU, "Nowhere." This story is very much centered on both the Spades Palace and Nowhere, the Land of Jokers. This story will have many of the intense themes of Clockwork.

In the sense of time, this sequel takes place 5 years after the events of Clockwork, making Arthur 26, Alfred 25, and their son! Peter, 2 years old. So be prepared for some family fluff, and Arthur's (or maybe Alfred's POV? Both?) reflection on the past 5 years. And then some angst. Because I said so.

:) Please R&R. I'm totally motivated by reviews, and the seriously amazing amount of favs and reviews on Clockwork inspired me to continue it with a full sequel.

Manda, the still mediocre opera singer, bids you welcome to this journey.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter One:

Alfred was bored. There was honestly no other way to describe the feeling. He was sitting at his desk, looking over papers, and it was boring, boring, boring. Maybe if he were normal, even a little bit normal, things would be different. He could have been a trader, or a knight, or something that wasn't so _boring._

Thing is, Alfred was the King. And it wasn't exactly a job you could just quit. It wasn't that bad, if he thought about it long enough. He was important, he was looked up to, he was…something.

He just didn't want to fuck it up.

Things were usually a little bit easier. But his husband, his Queen, and—more importantly—his _Arthur_ wasn't there to help him. Arthur was away, on a trip to Clubs for a few months. He was aiding King Ivan, His Royal Creepiness, to integrate magic back into Clubs. He wasn't alone—the Mages had gone with him, of course, and the letters that he sent contained reports of great success.

In the five years since their coronation, Arthur had come into his own as Queen of Spades. Maybe even better than Alfred did as King. Arthur was a Mage—naturally he cared about magic, and he was working closely to promote the support of magic in places were there was discrimination against it. Some places were not as _tolerant_ as Spades, where magic was as normal as rain.

As Alfred considered these things, he left his office in the Tower of the King. He missed Arthur dearly when he was gone, but he had more important things to do than sit alone and sulk.

And right now, those important things had nothing to do with being King. Recently, another title had been granted to Alfred, one that he hadn't thought much about before it had happened.

And as he pushed open the doors to the nursery, he realized that he preferred _father_ to King, anyway.

…

Until he was around seventeen, Alfred didn't think that he could fall in love. He just never thought it was even an option. And then he did fall in love, twice. First, with Arthur.

And then with Peter. The Prince of Spades, in his two-year old glory, was simply perfect. He smiled a lot, something that Alfred himself was said to do when he was a child. And he was so cute; with a little button nose that Alfred couldn't not pinch all the time.

With Arthur gone, Alfred made sure to spend at least half the day with Peter in his care, even if it meant that he would let Peter crawl and half-walk around his study and knock things over while he read those _boring_ papers.

These times were precious to him, just a little bit of normalcy in what was otherwise so unreal, even if he had grown up in the stone walls of the castle. He refused to be like his father before him, he wanted to be involved in Peter's life. He wanted to teach him about something, help him. Alfred would never wish his childhood on someone else.

And he tried, so hard, to be good at this for Peter, and for Arthur.

Peter had said his first word when he was a year old. To Alfred's great pleasure and Arthur's immense embarrassment, it was "Mama," which Arthur tried to drill out of him before Alfred reminded him that he was talking to a one year old and that was his actual first word. Arthur let up, but it rained for a week.

Not long after that came "Daddy," and some other short words. Poor Jack Yao got stuck with "Meow," and Alfred still couldn't look him in the eyes a year later.

Recently, Peter had been putting together short, stringy sentences, and trying to speak to everyone in the palace who would listen. And as Alfred sat there, trying to work, and not really succeeding, Peter hobbled over to him in the awkward toddler walk, and said, quite proud of himself, "Daddy sad?"

Alfred picked him up and sat the little prince on his desk. "No, Peter. Daddy's not sad. Just a little tired, is all." The King kissed his forehead.

"Oh. Daddy want Papa back." Alfred blinked down at his son for a moment. The kid had Arthur's talents for observation, apparently. Also, Arthur must have gotten "Mama" out of Peter's head.

"Yes, Daddy wants Papa back." He sighed, in a very un-kingly manner.

But he was _not_ moping.

…

Arthur mused about things in his absence. Like, for example, who was dealing with the household while he was gone?

The King certainly wasn't doing it. He was drowned in papers and affairs of state—Arthur knew how busy he was, even when Arthur was there to take on some duties. Alfred's mother had taken to retirement once they got the hang of things, and she expressed never wanting to deal with the craziness of the magnificent palace again.

If Yao was dealing with the state of the palace, he feared for his return. While insanely intelligent in all things diplomatic, the Jack was known to have a very short temper—something that Arthur had learned to control in his time as Queen. He only let loose on _special_ occasions.

But maybe the palace wasn't what was really bothering him. Maybe he busied himself thinking of things that weren't so important.

Truth be told, Arthur wanted to go home. For all his adolescence, he dreaded home—home was where his brothers would taunt him; home was where he would be a disappointment to his father.

But now, home was different. It wasn't a stalwart fortress on a muddy river. It wasn't even the opulent palace in which he now resided.

Home was Alfred and Peter. And he missed them, dearly.

The Clubs Palace was a fortress that barely kept out the cold. It was short, not unlike the places he grew up in, and so very gray. He had been there for two months, and it was unlike any place he had ever been.

His mission was simple really—Arthur and his fellow Mages had to begin the re-introduction of magic into Clubs. At first it was very difficult. The people there were fearful of magic—after all, for the past twenty years, it resulted in nothing but a cruel execution. They had to tread carefully, and King Ivan wasn't much help. He had let them in, that was his help.

The Queen, Elizabeta, was the opposite. She had no magic to speak of, but she did everything in her power to aid the Mages in their quest. She had apparently known Toris, the Mage of Earth, before the great purge, when they were children. Elizabeta, and her lover the Jack Roderick, were hospitable. They were kind.

And with their help, slowly, ever so slowly, things were beginning to change in Clubs. The magic of the elements had gone into the land, bringing more food to harvest and less cold to the air. Somewhere, under all the snow that had refused to melt, was the rich green grass that Clubs had created a name of.

The perpetual winter was ending.

And, with the success in Clubs being as it was, there was no longer any reason to stay. He would be leaving within the week, on the long journey from Clubs to Spades, by boat. It would take weeks. Apparating there would be too tiring.

But, the long journey was all right with Arthur. He was used to boats—they were a family birthright. And better than that, he was going _home._

…

He couldn't do it. He wouldn't do it. Would he?

Mathias was conflicted. There was nothing he could do, not easily. Could he stand back and let Matthew and Gilbert have their crazy way with a kid? Matthew's…

_Nephew?_

None of this made any sense. None of it.

He watched in horror as his brothers in Nowhere went about their lives. They would be part of this. They would put someone in danger for personal gain?

Mathias never wanted to do that.

And now, it would seem like he had no choice. What could he say? What could he do?

Was it worth it to leave, even if there was a way to leave the oblivion that was their home? To betray the only semblance of a family he'd ever had.

He had put up with Gilbert's crazy ways, but never did he think he would be used as a tool for revenge.

The problem was, like most things in Nowhere, the gray areas were far too big. There was no right and wrong to pick from. They lived a life balancing on the line of morally good and bad, lived as bandits and swindlers, but they also helped. They gave a home to the homeless, a family to the orphaned, the unwanted.

But, was this new idea crossing the line?

Either way, Mathias didn't know what to do.

_Ah, well—looks like I'm gonna have to wing it._

He would make the right decision when the time came.

End of Chapter One

A/n:

I'm so sorry this took forever and a day forgive meeee.

Introductions are a bit hard for me. I know what I want to happen, but other things need to happen first.

Peter's adorable. Accept it.

Thank you for reading. R&R

Amanda

Ciao!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2:

It was early, the sun slowly rising above the slightly choppy water. Arthur had been on the ship for three weeks—it felt like months, and he didn't know exactly when they'd be arriving at the Spades' Harbor. The water rocked the boat, sometimes too harshly, and Arthur had become sick more than once. It took him by surprise—he had spent his whole childhood on his father's ships, getting his sea legs and pretending to be a pirate like his ancestors.

When he turned thirteen, his father had told him that he should be focusing on other things besides boats, that his brothers could still come with him, but Arthur had to remain at home with his mother. He was so angry that he called down the biggest storm he had been capable of conjuring at the time. The ships couldn't leave port for days and Arthur was punished. After that, he was only allowed on ships for travel.

So now, unused to the waves that tossed the travel ship in the water, Arthur remained inside his room, lonely, sick and tired. He wished that Alfred could have come with him, not for any kingly reason—he had grown used to his presence, and now he was lacking it.

But Alfred had his own things to do. In these moments of maudlin thinking, Arthur could do nothing but stare at his frowning reflection in the mirror.

And then his magic, so unused out in the open waters, overreacted. Arthur cursed when he felt the power surge in his blood—he was weak to his emotions. However, there was no thunder rumbling outside, no sailors shouting for lightning, and Arthur sighed in relief.

But when he looked back in his mirror, he did not see his own reflection. Instead, he saw familiar blond hair, disorganized in private, and broad shoulders covered in royal blue. With a start, he realized that he was looking through the mirror in Alfred's study.

He cursed again. Alfred jumped halfway out of his skin, turning around to face Arthur's outburst.

He stood silent, blinking at Arthur through his mirror. And not at all calm and in the least kingly manner he could possibly manage, he half yelled, "What the fuck _is_ this?"

Arthur didn't really know, so he just shrugged. "Magic?"

For all that Spades' embraced magic, Alfred didn't have any understanding of it. When their lives finally became some kind of normal after their wedding, the King adjusted to seeing Arthur's magic used in everyday life, but for someone who never did see it used in place of servants and technology, it took a lot of getting used to.

Alfred ran up close to the mirror, smudged the glass with his fingers, and said, "Hi."

He smiled.

"Hi yourself." Arthur matched his fingertips up with Alfred's, but felt only cool glass. He sighed. "I miss you, apparently."

Alfred pouted. "Well, you should."

Arthur sighed—he loved Alfred even at the worst of times, but he knew that the King was spoiled rotten. He wasn't used to not having something he wanted, and apparently he wanted Arthur.

It shouldn't have given him a silent thrill, knowing that. But it did.

Alfred placed his hand where Arthur's heart would be, if he could touch him.

"I want to touch you." A hint of color shot up on Arthur's cheeks.

"Alfred, behave. I wish I could come through the mirror, but I don't even know how I did this."

Of course, the king did the opposite of what he wished. The smirk was on his face; the one that always left Arthur completely wrecked with the dirty, sexy things that escaped Alfred's mouth.

"And if you could come through the mirror, you know what I'd do to you?"

"I have a pretty good idea, yeah." He let his eyes scan his husband's body. If Alfred was going to go there, Arthur would share in the indulgence.

"An idea? Do share, _honey_." The sweet, low tone in Alfred's voice was almost condescending. He wanted Arthur to lose his cool—riling him up had become his favorite pastime, if not for any other reason then for the somewhat intense and electrical sex that followed it.

"Don't call me that, _sweetie. _Well, if I stepped through this mirror, I'm sure you wouldn't waste any time." He looked into the King's rapidly darkening eyes and then around the study.

"You know what I'd do next?"

"Of course I do—you're very predictable."

"Predictable?" There was a whine in his voice that didn't quite fit with the huskiness of it.

"Yes predictable—you'd have me over that desk in one second."

And then the smirk was back. "But is that really a bad thing? I seem to remember that you liked it the last time."

And yes, he did like it. He liked it a lot. With the memory in his head, the image of Alfred and his study flickered for a moment. And Arthur suddenly felt tired.

_Tired_. He needed to stop, immediately. Arthur was sure that the last thing Alfred saw in the mirror was Arthur's panicked look before the image disappeared. If that was even really Alfred.

Projecting an image like that was illusion. Dark Magic.

Arthur's mind reeled. He was homesick and boat-sick and tired. And now he would almost certainly have nightmares. He had worked himself into a panic—he felt his uneven breathing more than he heard it catching and saw the streaks of salty tears running down his face.

As he stared at his reflection, his magic shattered the mirror.

…

Matthias shivered a little bit before sitting beside Matthew.

"Hey, Matt?"

"Yes." The passive man was looking less and less calm every day.

And Matthias didn't know what to say—for once in his life he was speechless. He decided to go in all or nothing.

"I know."

Matthew's eyes widened. "Know what?"

He sighed. "Everything."

And Matthew looked horrified. "I-I didn't mean those things I said!" It was probably the loudest he'd ever heard him speak.

"I was a-angry. Confused. And now, now Gil is considering kill—doing what I said. I don't want that. I don't want to be a part of _any_ of this. Just because I resent my past doesn't mean that I'm crazy like him."

"Why did you tell us to go ahead with it?"

"I-I" He looked right into Matthias' eyes. "I wanted to meet him."

"The boy?"

"No. You said you know everything. I wanted to meet my… The King. I wanted to meet the King. But maybe it's better that he doesn't know about me. It's better that I don't exist."

Matthias didn't really know everything. But they had to be brothers, or at least cousins. The resemblance was uncanny when they were children, if he remembered correctly.

"Can you tell me your story, Matt? Why are you here?"

Matthew's eyes were staring at nothing, avoiding Matthias. He began to speak.

"My father was the King of Spades."

Matthias nodded. Matthew sighed.

"But my mother wasn't the Queen of Spades."

Oh. _Oh._

"The King was kind to my mother, even though she was only a serving maid. When she became pregnant, he didn't banish her away like she'd thought he would. In fact, he even told the Jack of Spades to let her stay as a servant in the palace, even though she had disgraced herself by being unmarried and pregnant. She had told me he was kind-hearted. I was born the exact same day as the prince—well, King, now. Still, she wasn't sent away from the palace."

He sighed again.

"I lived there, until I was about four years old. I don't remember much—We didn't have much money, but we ate and had clothes and she was happy."

Matthias saw the beginnings of tears in his eyes.

"Then, around my—our fifth birthday, he summoned her into the tower of the King. It's one of the first memories I can really remember. She took me with her. He—he explained that people had noticed a resemblance between the prince and me. He didn't say it but it was pretty clear to my mother that he didn't want his reputation to suffer because he had a bastard. He kept staring at me, like if he looked long enough I would disappear. He asked her to leave."

There were definitely tears now.

"We left after that—I don't know where we went, but we moved around a lot, and my mother tried to find work. But she struggled because she needed to take care of me and we—we had nothing. She had to sell all of our things, and probably herself, just so I could eat. I was older then, maybe seven, but not old enough to fend for myself. She didn't eat anymore, didn't even get out of bed sometimes."

Matthias was frozen with the horror of Matthew's words.

"She was sick. She—she just wasted away. When she was gone, I felt alone. I was seven years old, a virtual orphan, and I walked. I was small for my age, and I could steal bread from the street vendors without being noticed. And I walked, and walked, and then Gilbert took me into Nowhere. He had food and warm clothes and he smiled at me. He was only maybe sixteen, but he was the closest thing to a father I'd ever had. And now he's losing his mind to dark magic."

Matthias didn't really know what to say, so he wrapped his arms tight around him.

Quiet, into his ear, Matthew continued.

"I always told myself that I wasn't alone in the world: I had a brother, sort of. And I always had a hope that maybe he would care about me. Maybe I could experience real family again. And, if taking the new prince, my almost _nephew_ or something, would let me see family, I would do it. But I don't want to meet him that way. I wish I had a reason to meet him where I wouldn't be committing a crime."

As he pulled away from their hug, Matthias considered.

"You know what, maybe we can swing that."

End of Chapter Two

A/n:

So it's been like thirty years. I'm not dead I swear. Just a lot of writer's block and real world stress.

But I'm done with the first year of college and I'm a lot less stressed now, and I'm feeling the inspiration again.

So, Matt has a rough story. I just want a big Al/Matt bro meeting. Brohugs and tears. The "Sister, Sister" theme song can be involved.

Arthur will be home next chapter, and there will be actual things happening (and maybe Francis which is always a plus.)


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